


Costume

by Paige242



Category: Superman & Lois (TV 2020)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29924340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paige242/pseuds/Paige242
Summary: Soon after his sons’ eighteenth birthday, Clark decides that Jordan needs a disguise.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	Costume

**Author's Note:**

> I have two weeks off work and I’m in lockdown! I hope y’all will forgive all the stories :) So many plot bunnies!

_It all started with a haircut_. 

He’d finally gotten fed up with his shaggy hair and, in an impulsive moment, had stopped into the local barbershop for a cut on his way home from school. 

Jordan hadn’t really thought too much of it. He’d had the same hairstyle for over five years and, with his eighteen birthday approaching, it felt like a good time to change it up. 

Jon had laughed when he first saw him (much to his annoyance) and was the first to tell him that he looked even more like their dad now that the wavy locks had been snipped away. 

He’d scowled at his brother before shrugging it off. He thought he looked like himself, and it was nice not to have to brush it out of his eyes constantly. 

He stood by his decision. 

_Then, he’d received a birthday present_. 

Sarah had gotten him a new shirt and (like a good boyfriend) he had pretended to like it. In truth, it wasn’t really his style. It was bright blue, and a bit more athletic looking than he usually liked. She had smiled and said the colour would bring out his eyes. He, stupidly, had agreed to wear it to his party that night. 

When he’d gotten dressed later that day he found himself starring at the mirror for an unusually long time. The blue shirt, it turned out, was also a bit more fitted than he was used to. Jordan had always been partial to baggie t-shirts and hoodies. He felt like they helped him blend in. 

Especially recently. 

His body had always looked a bit more athletic than it should have for someone who hated sports. And in the past two years, no matter how little he did, he had developed the look of a guy who ran marathons and bench pressed in his spare time. 

He most certainly didn’t. But, apparently, his weird hybrid body didn’t care. (And in fairness, he could lift several tons and run at superhuman speeds, when he absolutely had to). He wasn’t massive, but he looked strong. Like his dad. 

It was all a little uncomfortable for him and he felt much better when he hid under layers of fabric. Jon said he was crazy (and happily displayed his own similarly athletic physique) but Jordan didn’t care. 

This shirt, however, left nothing to the imagination. He had seen the clearly defined muscles of his arms and chest when he wore it and the colour reminded him a little too much of his father’s trademark suit. 

But he’d forced himself to wear it with a brave face that night. And he’d had so much fun at the party that he hadn’t noticed his parents’ worried looks. 

_Then finally, he gained a new power_. 

As was often the case, Jordan’s most recent power kicked in when he least expected it. Two days after their birthday, the boys had run out outside, eager to get their chores over with. They’d been running towards the barn, partaking in a childish race (which Jordan easily could have won, if he’d cheated). He’d tripped clumsily on a hose in the grass but, instead of hitting the ground with a thud his body had stopped a few inches above it. 

Hovering in mid-air. 

“Holy shit.” 

His brother had muttered in surprise as panic overtook him. For a moment, he felt like he was stuck and he involuntarily rose higher as he attempted to command his body to land. Finally, he fell. He’d never been happier to get a mouthful of grass. 

It could hardly be considered a flight. But he had technically defied gravity and that opened up a whole new level of possibilities. 

As usual, his dad had taken him to the fortress that night and days of serious discussions had followed. 

_And that brought him to now.._.

Just when he’d thought the whole “flying episode” had died down his father had called him into the living room after dinner. 

He’d arrived to see a small box sitting on the coffee table and he reluctantly obliged when his father gestured for him to sit down. He briefly wondered if he was going to be shown yet another alien artefact- even after four years of this, it seemed like there was always some other secret to reveal. 

“What’s that?” He asked, getting right to the point as he nodded towards the box. “Did you find magic crystals that can teach me how to fly properly or something?” 

His dad shook his head and gave him one of his patented no-nonsense looks. “No, he replied, “I’m going to teach you how to fly,” there was a hint of pride in his voice and Jordan didn’t hate it. Weird as it was, he had often wondered if he’d gain the ultimate power one day. His progress had been slow but steady over the years and he had secretly hoped that it was only a matter of time. “But your mother and I have been talking and we think the time has come.” 

He slid the box towards his son before looking up, a hint of worry in his eyes.

Curious, Jordan opened the lid. 

It certainly wasn’t a strange alien object starring back at him. 

No, it was quite the opposite. 

“Glasses?!” He exclaimed, raising an eyebrow at the unexpected contents. “Wait...are you going to make me wear them now?” 

His dad let out a soft sigh. “We can’t make you, Jordan,” he noted realistically, “but I hope you’ll understand why it’s a good idea.” 

The teen said nothing and simply stared ahead, indicating that while wasn’t pleased his father should continue. 

“The more you look like me— like Superman— the more dangerous things become,” he began to explain with a note of regret in his voice, “the fact of the matter is, I have a lot of enemies and if they find out about you and your brother you’ll be in constant danger.” 

Jordan snorted. He’d heard that line before, it had been drilled into them for years and he had always obeyed and kept the big secret. He wondered why this new precaution was suddenly necessary. 

“Jon is your son too and his powers have started to manifest,” he pointed out, folding his arms across his chest. “I hope you got him a pair too.” 

His dad signed again. “That may be necessary one day too,” he conceded, “but you know he takes after your mother far more than you do, and his powers are still in the early stages. It’ll be a while before he can help us.” 

Help us? 

That phase put his body on high alert and he looked at his father with surprise. Jordan had never come along on a mission. His mom forbid it and he wasn’t advanced enough to keep up to his dad yet. 

Although, he realized suddenly, if he mastered his flying that would probably be a game changer.When his dad got a call, he could follow. 

His father was clearly thinking about it. 

“Your mother I don’t want you to have to worry about anything until you graduate,” Clark continued, “but the sooner you start developing an alias, the better. I don’t think we can put it off any longer. I’m sure no teenager wants to hear this from their sentimental old man but, when I saw you at the birthday party last week, our similarities really hit me.” 

Jordan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, pretty sure that he knew where this was going. 

People had been telling him that he looked like his dad his entire life. He’d always been the dark haired twin. The one with dad’s square jaw and well-carved features. (Jon, everyone said, looked more like grandpa Lane). And now that he had grown bigger and stronger the resemblance was even more apparent. 

“Crap, Jon was right,” he muttered, a slight twist in his stomach, “I shouldn’t have cut my stupid hair.” 

Despite his bitter sounding proclamation, his dad let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head in bemusement. “I’m not going to lie,” the man noted with a small smile, “the haircut did kind of drive it home. And the blue shirt,” he raised an eyebrow and Jordan silently cursed his girlfriend for making him look like a big blue boy-scout, “but even without that, it’s pretty clear to anyone who looks at us that you’re my son.” 

Jordan felt an involuntary swell of pride at that thought. This may have been a bit uncomfortable, but it secretly felt good to see his father so pleased. 

  
It wasn’t really a bad thing to closely resemble one of the worlds most admired heroes. And Sarah certainly thought he was handsome, so that was a big plus. 

  
“But, for your own safety, you need to be Clark Kent’s son in other people’s eyes. Not Kal-El’s.” 

The man slid the glasses box a few more inches towards him and Jordan finally reached out for them with a defeated sigh. 

He hated to admit it, but his dad was right about this one. He could grow back his hair and hide under his clothes but, even then, someone might figure it out. 

Glasses had always seemed like such a thin disguise but they had worked for decades. People saw what they wanted to see and even he hadn’t made the connection for fourteen long years. 

“Fine,” he muttered, picking up the thick black frames and placing them on his nose. 

They didn’t obscure his vision at all and he could see his dad smile. 

Curious, he quickly rose from the couch and took a few strides towards the nearest mirror, pausing to take in his new reflection. 

It was crazy how much of a difference such a small item could make. Logically, he knew that nothing about him had changed in the last thirty seconds but the face staring back at him suddenly seemed altered. 

The glasses made him look more serious and refined. Older, maybe. 

The black frames seemed to distract from his piercingly blue-green eyes. (Kryptonian eyes).

It was an odd thing to admit, but he suddenly felt more human than he had in years.

Yes, he was definitely Clark Kent’s son. 


End file.
